Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the nightand I swear your leg is pressed against mine, and I can feel you breathe, in and…
“Hey, listen up,” whispered the male classmate who sat in front of me. “Fukada likes to sleep around.”
The moon is in my headthrobbing red, full of wine,echoing with your snores.
I always hated ticking clocks,chipping away the house I builtfrom childish pride in my mind.
My palpitating heartwakes me to receivethe damp film on my skin.My legs kick away sheetsto let the…
I wait impatiently for the nightly howl of the windto call out my name and tear me away…
Is not just a bad dream.
It is a suffocating dread.
I love the blankets
I sleep with.